


Kuebiko

by dorkslayer



Series: logolepsy [5]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, Loss, Mourning, this ones not so happy yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkslayer/pseuds/dorkslayer
Summary: Kuebiko: a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violenceMagnus discovers the ruins of his home and indulges in a good old fashioned breakdown





	Kuebiko

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some more angst bc I just love Magnus sm. This is very short, I just had to write something to get my juices flowing again.

Magnus may be a fighter, but he is forever a lover at heart. He isn't prone to pessimism or hate. Love and kindness flow out of him like a stream, and he always looks for the best outcome to any situation. 

When he feels anger it's brief and fleeting, flaring bright for just a moment and extinguishing just as fast. Dark and intrusive thoughts are pushed aside easily for happier one.

Magnus is slow to anger, quick to cool.

The first time he feels real rage is when he looks upon the ruins of Ravens Roost.

It's lucky that he was alone, because anyone in his path would have suffered at his hands. He shouts and screams and sobs, tearing and punching at bricks and stone. With knuckles bleeding he rips at the ruins of the place that he once called home. 

If Kalen had been present, gods only know what he would have done. No force in any plane could have stopped Magnus from killing him. It would have been slow and painful, lasting as long as he could string it out. Instead, he takes his anger out on a pillar, grinding it to dust beneath his fists, a poor substitute for the rending of flesh from bone that he craves so badly.

He rages like that for hours, wandering the ruins in a daze, wrecking anything still standing. He finds bodies, some friends and some unfamiliar and it destroys him more. His heart is chipped and cracked, hurting ever more as the day wears on.

It's night when he stops, when he's forced to stop really. 

At least four of his fingers are broken, and probably a toe or two, lungs aching and his ribs groaning in protest to any movement. His throat is raw from howling at the unfairness of it all and blood splatters him from head to toe.

Collapsed in a field, he thinks of Julia. Julia was much more prone to anger than he was. She could hold a grudge like nobody's business, and often did. 

Once, just before they got engaged, Magnus had punched a man on her behalf. He was a drunkard, shouting slurs at her from outside a bar. One of those brief but bright flames of anger seized him, and one swift punch put the bastard down. Julia huffed that he should have let her handle it, that she wasn't some damsel that needed saving. Magnus had tried to explain that his need to protect her didn't always mean that she needed protecting, but she refused to listen. That night Magnus slept on the couch, as well as the night after. The whole thing ended in a massive screaming match, and it was a week before things were back to normal. Julia admitted that she may have overreacted and Magnus promised that in the future she could fight her own battles.

And look where that got her.

The anger was gone, and he was left desolated in its wake. He cried until he couldn't make any noise and his tear ducts were dry. He felt empty, like everything inside him had been scooped out when Julia died. If this was what loss was, he didn't want it. If there was a way to forget it all, he would count it as a mercy.

Julia would have hated this, he thought. She had always told him that his attitude was his best feature, his upbeat, optimistic personality. Her attitude was her best feature too, spunky and stubborn to a fault, but ultimately, easy to love.

And her glow had been snuffed out, all the light in Magnus's world gone in the blink of an eye. Without Julia, who was he? Magnus had always had the unfortunate need to put all his eggs in one basket and now he was seeing the repercussions.

Maybe dying here would just be easier, he thought. Nobody would miss him, with Ravens Roost gone, Magnus Burnsides was nobody and nothing. 

To lay here and die along with everything he had ever loved would be easy, expected even.

Instead he slept. A long, dreamless sleep from which he was woken only by the glaring sun. Magnus took a deep shaky breath, feeling a few stubborn tears crawl down his stained cheeks. Then he took a deep breath.

With some effort, Magnus stood. It was at least a days walk to the nearest settlement especially with his broken body the way it was. If he wanted to be in a bed by nightfall he had to get moving now. Magnus took one last look at his home and choked back a sob. Dying was easy, dying was expected but Julia would never have wanted that.

She was a fighter, maybe more so than Magnus was. She never gave up and because of that he wasn't going to give up now. 

The anger that lived inside of him was closer to the surface now, and maybe it always would be, but Magnus couldn't let it control him again. He would live, and one day he would die, presumably in a blaze of glory and only after he had taken his pain out tenfold on Kalen. Then, he would give up. 

But not a moment sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought, it would be greatly appreciated.


End file.
